Behind the Dragon Lies a Diamond
by Confetti01
Summary: Miranda Lloyd lives a normal life. Sure, her family are billionaires, yeah they might be Italian royalty in 19th Century Georgian England, maybe she got sucked into the world of Lost in Austen and there is a slight possibility she could end up married to a fishmonger. Not to mention, Wickham wont leave her alone and she is yet to find her missing shoe. Wickham/OC, A/D, J/B. AU, OOC
1. If you are a Knave, I am a Helicopter

**Why hello there! This is my first Lost in Austen fic, not my first fic in general , though, so don't stress (hopefully it is correctly spelt and grammatically correct for the most part). This will be a predominantly Wickham/OC plot line though I will also weave in some A/D and J/B. It might start off a wee bit Mary Sue as I want to follow the series plot line, just by injecting my OC and her own little (major) plots and twists. Hopefully, if all goes and is received well, I will do a sequel which will be life after the events of the series. Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: this will be the single and only disclaimer for the entire story. I do not own Lost in Austen or Pride & Prejudice. All characters belong to Guy Andrews and Jane Austen respectively. Any unfamiliar plots, subplots, characters and settings are Copyright of Confetti (me) and any resemblance to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.**

Chapter One: If you are a Knave, I am surely a Helicopter.

I think I have lost my mind.

I can honestly say I know how Amanda Price must have felt when she walked through that damn door in the bathroom. Yes, I am speaking from personal experience. The similarities between our situations are uncanny.

The basic overview up to where I am currently standing, which is in no other than the servant's quarters of Longbourne believe it or not, starts off roughly fifteen minutes ago.

I returned to my lovely, spacious, midtown London apartment (at least as spacious as an apartment in upper working class London could be- much to the disapproval of my ridiculously loaded family) only to be greeted by a very familiar, very fictional, very _not _mine apartment. It was none other than Amanda Price's. And who ever should answer the door?

You guessed it. Gemma Arteton. Or Elizabeth Bennet I suppose, for the sake of the plot line.

I would like to take this time to mention that I am a very mature, logical and calm 22 year old. I proved this when I grabbed the door handle and yanked it closed. I proceeded to hold it closed for a further 6 and half minutes, shaking my head and muttering about the impossibility of my situation and, of course, my apparent lack of sanity.

See? Cool, calm and collected. Sort of.

I slowly let go of the door and took a deep breath. Of course I would be hallucinating. I had been told by my mother that I was reality's version of Amanda Price, all absorbed into a fictitious world, praying for it to become reality. Strangely enough she encouraged it; encouraged the want for a Georgian world that was so clearly not mine, all with a smug, knowing look in her eyes.

That's where we disagreed.

I just liked the story line. To be honest, I also got a kick out of watching someone flounder around while trying to make things work one way and accidently making things worse. It made me feel better when things were shitty.

The only similarity I would personally conclude would be that of the boyfriend. Liam and I had been together since I was 19 and he was 24. At first it wasn't an issue, we were both happy living a casual lifestyle; work during the week, party on the weekend and shag like rabbits when we could.

But alas, I decided my love of reading, which also benefitted my career greatly, was infinitely more interesting than the boring, lack lustre relationship it had become. Even at 27, Liam wanted to stay out into the wee hours of the morning while I wanted to stay home.

Yeah, there was definitely some strain there.

I was jolted from my critical evaluation of my life and sucky relationship by the door opening once more. This time it was Elizabeth who opened it and I took that moment to skitter back against the opposite wall.

She frowned quizzically at me and I just held my breath and tried to make no sudden movements.

_Jesus, Miranda, get a hold of yourself._

I mentally slapped myself.

"May I help you?"

"Urgh," I managed to get out. _Wow, eloquent. She probably thinks we are stupid now._

We? Who is we?

"Are you looking for Miss Price? I'm afraid she has left for my house already," she smiled carefully.

"Urgh…" God, don't start drooling. Just breath, you can handle this.

"Oh!" I jumped, startled at the sudden noise in the quiet hallway. "How improper of me, I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet, but you may call me Lizzy."

She curtsied deeply and looked back up with an expectant smile. Oh, right.

"Um, Miranda Lloyd," I curtsied back, thankful for my theatre phase for once in my life. "If you don't mind my asking, why are you in my apartment?"

Her look of undisguised shock morphed into a frown as swung the door open wide to let me in. when I stepped into what I thought would be the familiar entrance hall, I was met by a completely foreign environment. Where there would normally be an artwork lined hallway was an open plan living room.

"You also live with Miss Price? I was only aware of one other occupant."

"No, no, no, no, there has to be a mistake. Where is my apartment? Why is this here? What is going on?" I whispering by now and spinning around erratically, taking in the unknown apartment.

"Would you rather talk to Miss Price? If it is meant to be, I believe that the door will open freely for you. It seems to be rather temperamental but I have faith it is the hand of fate."

By this stage I had decided that I must have been high as a kite, possibly bought a spiked coffee or something. May as well go along for the ride, right?

"Sure, why not?" I laughed nervously. She lead me to the bathroom, quickly pulling the chord for the light once to turn on, then twice more so it flickered off and then on again. Apparently she was still as fascinated by the contraption as she had been in Lost in Austen. But I guess I really were right at the beginning so it made a little sense.

"Before you go, take these," she picked up a pile of clothes from on top of the toilet seat and handed them to me. There was a dress, a pair of brown leather gloves, a bonnet and a cropped checked jacket. She turned and left the room, closing the door softly with a click.

_Well,_ came the voice I was learning to discern as my conscience, also known as Maggie May,_ better get to work. This could take a while._

Hush up, Maggie, I grumble back.

I put on the beige, muslin dress and fastened the buttons of the crop securely. It was surprisingly loose on my flat chest and thin, curve-less figure. It was so true, women in the day where definitely larger than the modern ideal of average. Not that Lizzy looked big, by no means, she was tiny.

Odd.

If there was one thing I wasn't changing, it was my shoes. Sure, I didn't expect women of the nineteenth century to wear six inch heels, but they were tan, and pretty, and cost me a small fortune so they were staying.

I ditched the bonnet, slipped on the gloves and pulled the door open once more but paid no attention to whether or not Lizzy returned or left me to it. Taking a hesitant step forward, I reached the edge of the bathtub. I checked over my shoulder to see her standing by the doorway, and encouraging smile on her lips which somehow pulled the smallest of smiles from me.

I lifted my skirts and stepped into the bathtub, almost losing my balance and gripping the wall for support. I knew if this didn't work, I would look like an absolute idiot. Why didn't I check that it would open before I dressed up like a nut job and consented to step through the door like fucking Alice?

Maybe I was on opium. I don't recall any illicit substances though. I was very anti-drugs. Definitely spiked coffee.

One deep breath later, I was resting my fingertips against the blue wood panelling. I hadn't even put any pressure on the latch before the door was swinging open and hitting the door with an almighty _bang_!

"Oh, come on! Why don't we just wake up the whole house hold!"

Lizzy giggle in the background and when I looked she was trying to smother it with her palm.

"Laugh it up while you can, Elizabeth," I sang whilst taking a literal leap of faith and landing in the dim hallway.

That's where I was now. Servants' quarters. Longbourne. Nineteenth Century Georgian England. Fifteen minutes. All on the same page?

I turned around to face the door and watched as Lizzy's peering face was suddenly whisked from view by the unencouraged slamming of the door.

_That wasn't final or anything._ Not at all, Maggie May. Not. At. All.

I followed the hallway until I reached a set of stairs. I tried to descend them as quietly as possible but of course each step I took creaked and groaned like a troll and probably alerted the entire household that a twenty-first century intruder was traipsing around their house.

Though, by now they would have to be used to it wouldn't they? I mean, Amanda had materialised from the servants stairs, should they really be surprised if I did too?

Methinks not. But that didn't mean it would be the favoured opinion.

I followed my memory of the episode to a room on the same floor that I was willing to bet was Mr Bennet's library. If I knocked I would have to explain myself to Mr Bennet, and Amanda was as much a stranger to me as she was to Claude Bennet so she would be no help.

Yet, the alternative of wandering around the house and inevitably running into the overbearingly loud Mrs Bennet basically raised my fist for me. Without even realising, my knuckles rapped on the wooden door three times.

The low murmur of voices I had begun to pick up on suddenly ceased and a new, grouchier muttering picked up as it neared the door. Clearly, Mr Bennet thought I was either his meddling wife or silly daughters, come to harass him in his sanctum of peace.

Tough luck, bucko.

The door was ripped open and before he could begin his tirade he paused and let out a gust of air.

"You are not my wife." Good observation.

"No, sir."

"Nor are you one of my goats." Harsh.

"Nope."

His frown deepened as his confusion reached new heights. A second strange, outlandish girl appearing in one night? He was going to have to check the servants' quarters for any secret tunnels or doors that actually worked. He shook his head, clearly he had been reading far too much John Dwight.

"Well, dear, please come in. Are you an acquaintance of Miss Price? Perhaps you travelled together?"

Amanda looked at me in shock. Clearly she recognised me as a fellow outlander of the twenty-first century.

"No, sir, although I believe we share a mutual acquaintance in your daughter, Miss Elizabeth." Thankyou again theatre phase!

"I see," he rubbed his chin with his thumb as he took a seat at his desk. "And if you two do not know each other, yet are both here to see Lizzy, who has gone to stay with Miss Price, who is here…" he trailed off.

"I agree, the plan seems to have a flaw," I mumbled. He nodded his head emphatically.

Amanda took a deep breath. It appeared the magnitude of the situation was setting in as her eyes widened and her complexion turned ashen.

"Oh dear, are you quite well?"

"I do feel a bit-" she paused and looked at me helplessly, "-unusual. Might I go back upstairs?"

"Of course, in fact, why don't you both see to it you get some rest. You may take Lizzy's room. She has claimed the bed to be tolerable soft." We headed towards the door and I was thankful I would be able to have some time to explain my situation to Amanda. "My dear, may I have a word with you?"

I looked down at Mr Bennet's hand resting lightly on my elbow. I looked up at his blue eyes and couldn't help but smile and nod. There was a naturally calming, trusting warmth in his eyes that left me helpless to do nothing but as I was told.

_You're even starting to sound like you belong here,_ Maggie May scoffed.

Beat it, Maggie.

Amanda looked over her shoulder and smiled encouragingly as she walked through an arch way towards Elizabeth's room. I turned and walked towards a bookshelf as Mr Bennet closed the library door and once again took a seat at his desk.

"I believe I never got your name," he began.

"Miranda Lloyd, sir," I turned away from examining the spines of the books, curtsied lightly and bowed my head. I was getting the hang of this.

"Any relation to King Walter and Queen Emmanuelle of Italy?"

I froze.

To start with, why did the Italian king have such an English name? And the queen, hers was French, wasn't it?

This was all too familiar to be coincidence.

In my world, my paternal Grandfather was a major international business tycoon but was originally from Italy. He had married my English Grandmama who insisted on naming her only son after her own father, leaving the Italian air to the multi-billion corporation named an Englishman. He was currently CEO of King Lloyd Enterprises.

My mother was French, through and through. Her maiden name had been King before she was married and coincidentally, her father had been a partner of King Lloyd Enterprises before he passed.

The coincidences were too many for it to not be significant. They could only logically be my parents in this alternate universe. Not that much was appearing logical at this point. But mama had always encouraged me to believe in this world. _Oh, Jesus. It _can't_ be possible…_

"They are my parents," I whispered incredulously. Holy shit, my parents are Italian royalty!

His eyes widened significantly but his expression softened quickly enough and he looked at me with understanding.

"Ah, I see."

"You do?" I asked hopefully. I didn't even understand at this point.

"You do not want the shadow of your parents or your birth rights hanging over you," he conceded.

"_Sure_."

"Your conversation and lack of want for your status is refreshingly elliptical." He looked at me with admiration before shaking his head slightly and standing up once more. He gently guided me to the door. "I shall see to it the guest room is made up. Mrs Hill," he called as she passed by with a basket of laundered sheets, "please see that Miss Miranda is shown to the guest room."

With one last squeeze of my shoulder he retreated back within the library and left me to follow Mrs Hill through the same arch Amanda had taken and to a room in the opposite corner.

Once the housekeeper had turned down the sheets, she curtsied and excused herself with a genuine smile. I couldn't help but smile back. These people! They were all so damn nice!

With a frustrated huff I walked back out of my room, mindful to try and keep the noise to a minimum despite the heels I was currently sporting, and headed in the direction I had seen Amanda aim for.

I knew I had found the room when I saw Kitty and Mary hurry out of the door way, whispering and snickering at the strange behaviour of the even stranger woman now in their sister's room. They spared me an equally as strange glance before rushing down the stairs, assumedly to tell their other siblings and mother.

I knocked lightly on the door frame as I slowly walked towards Amanda. She was sitting on the bed with her phone out, waving it around in an attempt for reception. I hadn't been smart enough to bring mine, even if they hadn't even been invented yet. God,_ electricity_ didn't even exist. Had Faraday even been _born_ yet?

"Amanda?" I asked slowly, fighting the urge to smirk as she jumped at the sound of my voice. "Sorry, bad habit."

"It's alright," it definitely didn't sound alright. This time I couldn't help the smirk that escaped, or the slight chuckle.

"Um, you seem to know who I am, but I have no idea who you are."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I muttered, walking towards the lace curtained windows on the other side of the room.

"Try me."

So I told her everything. I told her that it wasn't just her stuck in Pride and Prejudice, that I had somehow landed myself in Lost in Austen and that she was the main character. I also included what I knew of the Italian hierarchy and the link that seemed to connect them with me; both in this reality and mine.

Yeah, she was pretty speechless after that.

"I really want to tell you that you're a nutter and you should probably see someone about this delusion," she started and I rolled my eyes, "but given the situation I'm in, I really don't think that's fair. As much as I don't want to, I believe you."

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. I was surprisingly relived to know I now had at least one ally in this crazy, messed up place. Honestly, I considered Mr Bennet as much of an ally as Amanda, too, but he didn't understand exactly what we were going through. It was nice to have someone who understood.

Even if she was fictional.

Amanda took in the appearance of Miranda. She was stunningly beautiful, that much was obvious. She was wearing the same outfit that Elizabeth had worn on her second appearance but somehow they suited her much better, even if they were a little big in some areas.

Her long caramel hair was just a shade darker than her tanned skin and Amanda couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of the creature next to her. One thing was for certain, with a beauty like this around, she had no idea how she was going to keep this story on track. The chance of straying eyes had just sky rocketed and there was nothing Amanda could do about it.

And to be related to Italian royalty? The coincidences of her reality so closely matching this new unknown, fictional version were uncanny. She understood, and agreed, to keep it quiet though. As per Miranda's request, she would only call her Miranda in private and Miss Miranda in public.

The last candles upstairs had just been blown out, leaving the second floor in darkness. Miranda said a soft goodnight before breezing out of the room and off to her own.

Amanda couldn't help the surge of pride she felt as she watched the younger woman. Somehow, their camaraderie in their circumstances and almost two hour long conversation had created an almost sisterly bond between the two. And Amanda was fiercely protective of her family.

I returned to the guest room and blew out the candle with a smile on my face. What was this place doing to me?

The last thing I thought of before I drifted off, was how nice it was to have an older sister. Especially one like Amanda Price.

**There we go, first chapter complete and out :) constructive criticism welcome, straight out abuse? Not so much… any suggestions or ideas, character names or situations, please message me or review, I would love to hear from you all! Even if you just want to say hi :) next chapter will depend on reviews, general reception to this story and of course, how much time I find. See you soon!**


	2. Daisies dressed as Telescopes

**Here is Chapter 2! And yes, this is roughly and hour after I posted the first chapter, I'm so proud of me! I hope you enjoy it and please read the A/N at the end. Many thanks :)**

**Disclaimer: beginning of chapter 1.**

Chapter Two: Daisies dressed as Telescopes

The wailing had only stopped for a few hours during the night.

Bloody Mrs Bennet was a persistent one. I was all the way in the opposite corner to the library and I could still hear her muffled howls as Mr Bennet refused to acknowledge her whims and wants.

Eventually the door had slammed, possible shaking the very foundations of this _brick_ house, and trotted off to bed. The respite was brief for at the ass crack of dawn she was shaking the walls with her grating cries.

If this was to become routine I was going to have to have a word with _Claude_ about shutting his wife up, _even_ if it meant doing as she demanded every once in a blue moon. _Even_ if I had to be the one to paint the damn moon blue.

I did not cope very well on minimal sleep. I tended to lose all but my basic functions such as breathing, eating and being super grouchy. With such food for thought, I hurriedly dressed myself in a light green cotton gown with darker green embroidery that had been laid over the trunk at the foot of my bed. A crocheted knit jacket with short sleeves in the palest orange with a matching bonnet, much more stylish than the one Lizzy had offered me yesterday, and a pair of beige leather gloves rested next to where the dress had previously lied.

I walked to the mirror, bonnet in hand, and stared at myself for a good ten minutes. To the outside world I could have been self-obsessive, pondering the mysteries of the world or even daydreaming but alas I was trying to decipher how to put on a bloody bonnet.

A very effective use of my time, I believe.

Surprisingly I was able to block out Mrs Bennet. This just made me concentrate even harder while still doing nothing. Sweet, sweet, silence in my head.

"Would you like a hand with that?" came a soft voice from the door way. I looked up to see a beautiful blonde girl standing under the door frame. Her cream colour gown didn't seem to swamp her with her similarly pale complexion, rather enhanced the radiant glow she seemed to emit despite the ungodly hour.

"Ah, if it is no trouble," I managed. Talking was not one those basic functions I managed in the mornings. Being mindful to speak concisely and naturally for the times was hard enough on a good day, at a decent hour after an American sized breakfast, let alone at dawn.

She took a few steps forward before suddenly curtsying. "Please, forgive me, I have neglected to properly introduce myself. I am Jane Bennet, you must be Lizzy's friend, Miss Price?"

"Oh! No, I mean yes I am Lizzy's friend, but no I am not Miss Price. My name is Miranda," I curtsied back. I noticed her distress almost immediately and smiled reassuringly to show I was not offended.

She now took the final few steps before placing a delicate hand on my elbow and guiding me back to the bed where I sat down on the edge. She sat down behind me and began to slowly run her fingers through my hair to loosen the knots that had developed over night.

"If you do not mind me asking, do you know Miss Price?"

I rearranged my dress slightly as I thought about how best to answer her. "We are both friends of Elizabeth but no, we did not meet until last night in your father's library."

She nodded in understanding and began to elegantly twist my hair away from my face and secured it within the bonnet. A few short strands hadn't made it into the bundle and lay limply around my face, flaccid with the need to be washed and cleaned.

"Seeming as it is not necessary to wear a bonnet inside, would you care to join me in the rose garden? They are quite beautiful in the morning light," she stood straight and smoothed her skirts, nervously tugging at her long sleeves as she looked at me with a slight smile.

She was so shy it was adorable!

_Since when have you tolerated shy people?_

You say it like it's a disease.

_You used to think it was._

Maggie, I was five. Drop it.

"I would love to."

Jane left the room to retrieve her own bonnet and wrap while I picked up the calf skin gloves and pulled them over my slowly cooling hands. They felt like velvet and I made a silent oath to myself to never remove them. Ever.

We made it out the back door and onto a rather large patio that then lead out to the gardens. The grounds were much bigger than I had expected and I took delight in knowing I could now run off and hide amongst the shrubbery if I ever needed to escape the jubilations or nerves of Mrs Bennet.

I had a feeling I would soon become quite acquainted with the foliage.

After picking a rather large bouquet of red, yellow, pink, white and orange long stemmed roses, we made our way back into the house. We stopped via the kitchen to retrieve a tall vase and after de-thorning the stems, and removing some of the leaves, we arranged them and placed them on a small table in the parlour.

They were actually impressively beautiful and I couldn't help but feel proud of that small achievement. It seemed that being in a different reality had also shifted my sense of accomplishment and I was finding pleasure in smaller applications than the general standards found in modern society.

A shrill wail ripped through the tranquillity the morning had achieved and with a cringe, Jane quietly explained her mother's severe suffering of her nerves. I didn't have the heart to contradict her or frankly, to offend her by telling her that her mother was just bat shit crazy, and instead just nodded my head understandingly. She smiled briefly before leading me into the dining room.

As we sat down, Jane introduced me to Mary and Kitty who both stood and curtsied, to which I responded in kind. Lydia was the last besides Amanda to arrive and did not spare a glance at our side of the table before seating herself at the end of their row and launched into a hushed conversation.

Jane frowned at her youngest sister's lack of manners but made the introduction anyway. I squeezed her hand, as it lay on top of the table, comfortingly. All I could do was reassure her that everything was alright.

Just as she was about to offer breakfast, Amanda walked in awkwardly, still wearing her modern day clothes from the day before. Her awkward silence seemed to spread to the other occupants of the room and an unnatural quiet descended. Jane jumped at the opportunity to give proper introductions and proceeded to offer the both of us breakfast.

"There is chocolate, green tea and marmalade," she chirped happily, "for which Hill makes exceptional toast." A wail pierced the air once more. Jane looked awfully embarrassed and I couldn't help but feel sorry for her and the girls. "Sorry we can't offer you anything more amusing," she looked between us both with a sad smile.

"It all sounds…" Amanda paused as she observed the unusual breakfast items, "heavenly."

She finished with a smile although she looked more hung over than hungry at that moment.

"It is divine," I reassured her. She smiled gratefully.

"Your tunic, Miss Price," Kitty enquired, "It is what is worn in town this season? I think it very fine," she amended at her elder sisters scolding frown.

"Kitty, you are importunate," she whispered.

"I am starved of fashion, is all," she hastily defended herself. Mary and Lydia shared smiles with each other and tried not to laugh but Miranda saw quite clearly and couldn't help but chuckle with them. They both laughed a little louder when they noticed their guest also sharing their amusement.

"This, is…" Amanda began as she spread some marmalade across the surface of a piece of small, square toast, "otter hunting kit."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing and despite trying to contain it with a hand to my mouth, I couldn't help the giggles escaping.

_She's worse than you!_ Maggie May cackled in my head._ And you're terrible. Remember the time you told Bobby Ronsf-_

Good mood gone.

"Goodness," Kitty giggled, "are otters routinely hunted in Hammersmith?"

"Oh yes." She looked so serious. I had to school my features and take another calming breath but the chuckles could not be stopped! Could not be stopped I tell you!

"The belt, therefore," Mary decided to put her educational two cents in, "is for the attaching of gralloching knifes."

"Absolutely. My proper clothes are, you know, coming." She gestured a little with her hands which only seemed to make her look hurried and impatient. Maybe the questioning was bothering her as much as it was starting to annoy me?

"I shouldn't bother. In this house we may as well take the veil," Lydia began snidely but caved at Jane's unimpressed expression. "All Papa has to do, Jane, is call on Mr Bingley. It's not arduous. Yet to punish us for being flibbertigibbets, he will not."

"My mother, Miss Price, Miss Miranda, is a little indisposed this morning," Jane interrupted, effectively steering the conversation away from their new, illustrious neighbour as once again, Mrs Bennet's howls echoes throughout the large dining room, "she suffers from her nerves," she further explained to Amanda.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Amanda murmured awkwardly. I could tell she was not used to hiding her feelings as well as I seemed to be.

"Have you met my mother?" Poor Jane looked almost eager, relieved she would not have to further explain her mother's rather indecorous, dramatic behaviour.

"I have… yet to have the pleasure," I replied to her now downcast look. I felt like the Grinch who stole Christmas as I watched her smile slowly dissipate.

Suddenly a whinny trumped the noise that was Mrs Bennet and all attention was drawn to the widow. A tall gentleman upon his steed was approaching Longbourne. I looked at Amanda and in that instant she understood exactly who was approaching.

After the Bennet sisters had stood and rushed out the door I walked to Amanda and laughed at her expression; the mix of excitement versus pure dread and horror was too comical.

"It's Bingers, not Darcy, relax a little," I told her as I left the room, squeezing her hand to show I was kidding. Then I held my head high and walked into the devils den head on.

What a morning.

In fact, what a day.

Christ almighty, what a bloody week! Well, it had only been two days. But it had felt like a week!

After breakfast that morning we had proceeded to the drawing room where Mr Bennet introduced his daughters to Mr Bingley. He also introduced Amanda and I, only thing was Mrs Bennet had no idea about us.

She had been particularly vicious after Mr Bingley's had diverted from beautiful Jane to unusual Amanda and throwing all courtesy out the window, began instructing her girls on how to make both myself and Amanda more plain and undesirable.

If that wasn't bad enough she disregarded each of her girls except for Jane and made sure they only focussed on her. Of course, I was a firm believer that Jane and Bingley had to get together but Jane was already everything Bingley desired and it was harsh that her mother felt the need to 'make Jane desirable'. It was a gross ignorance for what was right in front of her eyes.

After this, Amanda had been dressed in one Lizzy's plainest dresses and we were herded off to church. Amanda managed to secure an enemy in Charlotte Lucas.

Don't even bother asking for an explanation. I have no idea how she did.

Personally, I was not a particularly religious person and spent the time counting stones in the ceiling but who was I to disrupt the normal life of my hosts? It would be impolite. Not that Mrs Bennet would see that I am doing her a favour by holding my tongue.

It was the next day that all the fuss was kicked up. Today of course.

It was the day of the ball, the first occasion that Jane and Mr Bingley could mingle semi-privately and the introduction of dear old Darcy. I could see Amanda already had her knickers in a twist as she sorted through Lizzy's gowns, trying to find the most flattering, most appropriate and not too risqué (it was the nineteenth century for God's sake, showing your ankles was a damn scandal).

I had already settled on a warm orange gown that set off the honey colour in my hair and the Italian tan of my skin. The neck line was square and the sleeves covered my shoulders but were short and left the length of my arm exposed. It was not a classic empire waistline but rather a tighter bodice that dropped from the waist to the floor in a sleek sheet. I found a royal blue wrap, so dark it was almost navy, with similar coloured cloves and bonnet to complete the outfit.

Knowing I would have to remove the contraption as soon as we arrived, I opted for simply leaving my hair out in its natural wavy state, centre part and all. Pulling it to one shoulder I slipped the dark blue bonnet on top of my head and fastened the bow under my chin.

Quickly snatching up my gloves and slipping on my six inch loafer-esque heels, I headed down the stairs and moved into the parlour to wait for the other women.

Mrs Bennet was sitting on one of the settees, fussing over Jane's pure white muslin gown. Once again, the pale colour did nothing but illuminate the glow she naturally emanated. After tucking the last curl in place, Mrs Bennet moved on to Mary, who was the only other girl ready besides me and Jane.

After a quick once over, a small frown and a quiet "you'll do" Mrs Bennet stood up and looked at me appraisingly. She appeared to be at war with herself and it was clear all over her face. She knew I had cleaned up well but didn't want to admit it. She had come to see me and Amanda as threats to the marital prospects of her daughters.

"I like how you have matched those colours," she spoke hesitantly yet calculatedly. "It suits your skin tone very appreciatively."

With that she swept from the room to presumably check on Lydia and Kitty. Amanda was entering just as she left but got nothing but a disdainful sniff and dismissal.

Before long we were in the carriage on the way to the assembly hall. The cool night breeze was refreshing and removed the slight flush from my cheeks which had developed in the stuffy parlour prior to leaving.

Mary was talking some nonsense about not marrying for status while her mother rebuked her 'modern' notions but all attention was drawn to Amanda as she whipped out her lip gloss.

I couldn't help but laugh at her. She was the one of us who knew the story back to front and off by heart yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't let go entirely of her modern identity and assimilate into our current culture.

Yeah, I was getting a kick out of it. So what? I was lucky I hadn't lost my mind so far.

But no, I guess I wasn't all that keen for the assembly, after all, I knew exactly what was about to happen and I knew Amanda wouldn't like it. But who was I to interfere?

I should have interfered.

What a disaster of a night. Not only did Amanda inadvertently turn Bingers toward her, but she also fucked up her relationship with Darcy from the word 'Go!' and the day afterwards, manage to send Jane to her almost death by riding through a storm.

It is times like this I question my sanity. I also like to question why whoever is in charge decided I was the best person to slip into this little alternate reality. Not to mention, when Amanda decided to go stay with Bingley to help Jane, I somehow got roped into being pulled along and ended up just as shivering, cold and wet when we both turned up for Jane.

I was surprised I wasn't in a bed the room over with the damn grip. Would have been a hell of a lot easier than dealing with Bingley obsessing over Amanda, Amanda obsessing over Darcy and Darcy obsessing over the stick up his arse. That and Caroline being a bloody nuisance to all involved. Of course Amanda had to goad her by telling her of her twenty seven thousand pound salary, never mind that it was in modern dollars.

Not only do early morning make me grouchy, but rain just tickles me the wrong way.

And it was pouring.

Ill spare the details of my infinite rain induced grouchiness and Amanda's God awful cock-ups. We were finally in a carriage on the way back to Longbourne. I had never been happier in my life to see Mrs Bennet's face that morning as I arrived in the parlour for morning tea. Then she opened her mouth and I literally crawled back into bed.

They could have been discussing the national debt crisis that had yet to happen in hundreds of years when the carriage lurched, sending its occupants (us) flying all over one another. Upon further inspection (they kicked me out and made me check the damage) a wheel had shattered and little pieces lay scattered around the immediate area.

While the driver began walking the distance back to town for some assistance, Mrs Bennet kitty, Marry and Lydia huddled to one side to moan and groan about how they were surely to perish on the side of the road (too plump for that in my opinion) and Jane and Amanda took off to another side in hushed conversation. That left me to wander idly around the carriage and look at dirt.

I was in the process of categorizing different types of gravel in the dirt when "Look, mama, we are saved!" tore through my conscience and I lost my place. What can I say? It was a sophisticated system.

"Ladies," a too suave voice sounded out behind me, more in the direction of the general group, "I rather form the impression you are satisfied to meet His Majesties Militia."

I turned around, grumbling to myself about brown stones and grey pebbles when my eyes met a rather peculiar creature. His hair was dark and his sideburns made me want to poke them. His brown eyes were surprisingly warm (not the usually murky and flat brown I was accustomed to) considering they were now smirking at me. Despite the fact he knew I was checking him out, and the fact that he knew I knew he knew I was checking him out, I couldn't help but assess the uniform.

Ooft. I love a man in a uniform.

If only Liam had a uniform. One that didn't consist of an apron or have tomato sauce all over it.

I looked back at his face and watched as his eyes flickered back up from my cream coloured day dress to my mint green bonnet and back to my eyes. I tilted my head in confusion but he did nothing but smirk arrogantly.

Damn it! He's too attractive to hate. And I know that he isn't actually bad. Bloody hell!

"Gentlemen, acquaint yourselves with the roof. We have acquired a most precious cargo that must be stored within." He bowed and smiled charmingly as the ladies tittered and shuffled towards the carriage.

"You are most kind, sir," Mrs Bennet began. "To whom do we owe this most felicitous offer?"

"Captain Wickham, madam. All felicity is entirely mine." He bowed and tilted his hat.

Amanda gasped.

I laughed.

Wickham tilted his head and half smirked half frowned at me.

Amanda huffed and frowned before stepping in.

I just winked.

**Well, that is chapter two! I hope you enjoyed it. I know that at the moment it is going a little slow, but I need to get the basic plot out of the way before I can weave any new characters or subplots into this one. It's all about development.**

**Once again, any suggestions, feedback, constructive criticism is welcome. NO to abuse and YAY to reviews :) Let me just say, my Inception story has had hundreds of reads, plenty of favourites and alerts but only two reviews! Let's see if we can do any better on this one! **


	3. I am a Zombie, I do like Brains

**I'm back! Sorry this one took longer than expected to come out. I had actually written about a third of it pretty much straight after the last two chapters but with the last week of school and what not is was a little trickier than expected to get out. But alas! I am on holidays now and have two whole weeks to focus on this! Well, this and I have my final major dance prac exams coming up but updates still should be much closer together. **

**This is hot off the press (metaphorically, of course) so please excuse any minor grammatical or spelling mistakes. If there are so many it is difficult to read or understand, please let me know so I can edit and repost.**

**Big thanks to **_Dreaming while awake_** for the very first review ever on this story, yay! And to a guest reviewer, thank you for your encouragement :)**

**Without further ado, I present:**

Chapter Three: I _am_ a Zombie. I _do_ like Brains.

If I didn't know any better I would call this totally unrealistic. If I didn't know any better, I would call Wickham a swashbuckling hamster and demand that he remove his shirt. If I didn't know any better, and at this point I really think I didn't, I would say I was still baked as biscuit and that I didn't seem to be mellowing any time soon.

That was my general thought process as I watched the slimy arthropod of a man, Mr Collins, give himself a good, vigorous rub through his pocket followed by a hearty sniff.

My gag reflex had always been sensitive but this was taking it to a whole new extreme.

Amanda looked equally as repulsed. Seeming as we were both standing at the entrance to the door way, and because I knew that the Bennet sisters needed to be introduced first if I was even going to attempt to stick to the story line (still hadn't decided if I was actually bothered enough for that yet), I grabbed Amanda by the upper arm and yanked her backwards with me.

From our vantage point behind the newly gathered crowd of female Bennet's, I could still see Mr Bennet and was able to hear what he was saying. This was definitely an advantage as I was able to signal to him not to introduce us.

Although to be perfectly honest, I don't think he understood my flailing arms and metaphoric throat slitting to mean 'talk and die, old man'. If anything I think he thought I was having a nervous breakdown. It really wasn't that farfetched an assumption, given the circumstances. Even if he was entirely unaware of them.

Collins continued to babble incessantly about nothing important (Lady Catherine de Bourgh, the weather, the phaeton, Lady Catherine de Bourgh –_insert squeeze and cringe-_) for the next fifteen or so minutes. Each of the girls were introduced and it was clear he had taken a shining to Jane, but who wouldn't? The pretty blonde ducked her head in what her mother and Collins both thought was humble modesty. I knew better. She didn't want to catch the attention of that vile cabbage muncher.

Without even realising Amanda had slowly made her way forward and was now teetering on the edge of the room, already in plain sight and pulling her back again would only draw unnecessary attention towards myself. That was the last thing I wanted to happen.

_Sweet Jesus, he's sniffing again!_

"Sweet Jesus, he's sniffing again," I whispered out loud.

_I just said that._

"And I was agreeing."

I noticed Jane and Mary both look up from in the room. I must have been louder than I thought.

Shit.

"Dearest cuzzies, all." Cause that's the way you address family you plan on committing incest with. Obviously. "Mr Bennet, you must exult like a sultan when you gaze upon your adorable ladies."

The predatory smile was creepy enough but when the hand became tucked in his pocket once more, I couldn't help the quiet whine that escaped my throat. In any other situation, the look on Mr Bennet's face would have set me off. The complimentary mix of sarcastic consideration and insincere appreciation launched this scene (at least in the real world- uh, the real world_ I_ came from, not Amanda's) into my top five best moments.

Unfortunately for me, this was my current reality and it was peaking at top two worst so far.

The first being landing here in the first place. Pretty close call, in my opinion.

"And this, therefore," he boomed smugly, this time with a leer at Amanda, "is Miss Elizabeth."

This time _she_ choked.

"Elizabeth is currently in town," Mrs Bennet rushed to correct him. Clearly she did not want her daughters (her) prospects for marriage (obtaining Longbourne) to become nil due to the presence of unwanted, uninvited, and most disagreeable house guests.

I smiled contently as I thought about how much she hated Amanda and myself, even if she disliked me a little less. It was more manageable that way, though.

Now it was the look on Collins face that once again had me teetering on the edge of exposing myself.

"At _this_ time of year?" his head bobbled as he exclaimed. He reminded me of the bobble headed hula girl my best friend Lacy had brought back from Hawaii last year. It say nicely on the dash of my car and never failed to calm me down when I _really_ started road raging. "Well, we shall not tell Lady Catherine. Her ladyship is very firm about the season."

He looked at Mrs Bennet condescendingly, leaning forward slightly as if telling her a most important secret and smiling smugly as if to say 'I'm doing you a huge favour and now you owe me'.

"Uh…" for the first time since arriving in this god forsaken realm and for the first time since watching the series…. Well, for the first time _ever_ I _actually_ felt _sorry_ for Mrs Bennet. It might have had something to do with the fact she was actually rendered speechless, though.

"Uh, we have in her place" totally trying to save face, "Miss Amanda Price. You will stay for dinner, won't you, Mr Collins?"

"Mr Collins," Mr Bennet interrupted, rubbing his temples and slowly opening his tightly squeezed eyes, "will stay the fortnight. Is that not the plan?" he didn't let him answer.

Mrs Bennet's eyes lit up while the Bennet sisters all ducked their heads and subtly shuffled closer to one another. Good strategy, travel in packs. Like wolves. Or sheep. Or hamburgers.

"Mrs Bennet, before you become consumed in your raptures, I believe there is one more introduction to be made?"

No, no, no, no, no-

"Oh. Why yes, how unbecoming of me."

She strutted- yeah, _strutted_- to the door way and pushed it open all the way, revealing me a couple of steps beyond the threshold. I physically flinched when Collins' perverted eyes squinted critically and a sordid grin erupted on his sallow cheek bones.

"_This_-"

"-is another of Lizzy's friends, Miss Miranda." Mr Bennet looked at me with a fond smile which, admittedly, helped my nerves and I internally felt the switch change from 'self-destruct' to attack each other like crazy people'. It might not seem like much of a difference but there was definitely less tension in my limbs than there had been mere seconds ago.

"Why, not only are the Bennet sisters living up to their wide spread revelry, but the very people who associate with them, too, share such vitality and, uh…" he looked awkwardly at Mary with thinly veiled disgust, "and beauty."

Hey pal! What right do you have to so openly disregard people based on first impressions? We seem to be showing a hell of a lot more common courtesy than you, then.

"We are so fortunate, Mr Bennet," that came out of nowhere.

"Indeed, the lord has _smiled_ upon us!"

I watched as Mr Bennet through his hands in the air and then proceeded to down his glass of brandy.

Boy, I could sure do with an alcoholic beverage.

This. Was. Possibly the funniest thing that had happened since we arrived!

At the front of the drawing room, Amanda stood stiffly with her arm safely tucked under Mr Collins, or William as he insisted she call him (due to the newly intimate nature of their relationship, of course) while he smirked proudly and condescendingly at Mrs Bennet.

I couldn't help but laugh as she began to slightly lean away from him. The only thing touching him now was her hand.

The one with the terribly boring, yet somehow audacious, engagement ring.

She glared at me. I laughed more.

Jane stood on the far side of the room, looking at her feet with a deep, scornful frown upon her forehead. Unfortunately for Amanda, and right on schedule for me (nice!), she had interrupted Collins marriage proposal to Jane, tried to push him off on to Charlotte and accidently given him the impression that she was mad with love for him.

Of course the only option after that, in order to prevent Jane from becoming his prey once more, she was stuck engaged to him. Jane was devastated, relieved that she wouldn't have to marry that toad stool, but devastated all the same that she would no longer be able to perform what she felt was her duty to her family.

It's not exactly like Amanda was _thrilled_ to be in that position. I had overheard her just the yester morning as I passed by her room. "I'm not _really_ going to have to marry Collins." A pause. "Oh God, I am."

We were still awaiting the arrival of our last guests before Mr Collins felt he had sufficiently alerted the _correct_ number of people to his felicitous news. According to Lady Catherine, one must share the news with all relations and close acquaintances. It was only proper to keep such important people abreast of such news.

_I_ wanted to tell her where she could abreast _her_ news.

It seemed entirely out of nowhere that Kitty, Mary and Lydia leapt from the room and were off down the gravel drive. I rose from my seat slowly (I had been taking extra care to act as boring and obtuse as possible to maintain myself in Mrs Bennet's semi-good graces. If Amanda was going to make it difficult- and highly amusing for me- then the least I could do was earn us some 18th century street cred), nodded delicately towards both Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet and Mr Collins before removing myself from the room and keeping an eye out on the younger siblings.

Though she would never admit it, I knew she was grateful that someone was looking out for her girls.

I was just stepping out onto the gravel drive when I caught the end of Lydia's exclamation "-proposed to Miss Price!"

Bollocks.

Even from this distance I could see the shock, hurt and disappointment on Bingley's face, Darcy just looked smug, the pompous bastard.

I was all for backing Amanda's current views on him. He was arrogant, rude and (I spose without realising it) thought his word was law. He would learn, oh boy, would he learn. And I was going to have so much fun teaching him.

I couldn't help the evil grin that stretched up my cheeks and delighted hum that escaped my throat.

"Good Lord!"

"Isn't it immense?"

Somehow I don't think he was referring to Lydia, not if the look he was directing at me was anything to go by.

I pointed to myself and raised an eyebrow. "Me?" I mouthed, hoping not to attract the attention of the Bennet Femme Fatale.

"Colossal. Has she accepted him?" True to character, Darcy remained wrapped up in his own little victories and remained ignorant to his friend's distraction. Not that I wanted to distract them, but it does prove my point, no?

They babbled on for a little longer. I can't tell you the exact words; I was too busy trying to make my own escape. I thought I was doing pretty well. I smiled at the heavens, praising all deities that I had gone unnoticed until the mafia ran back past me and into the house. I froze.

_This. Is not. Good._

"Ah, Miss Miranda," _If you know what is good for you, you will leave me alone and I won't introduce you to a couple of my _favourite_ modern words,_ "scuttling away to spread the gossip with those, uh, _lovely_ Bennet sisters?"

_He really is heading for a smack._

Bloody oath.

I plastered as real a smile as possible on my face and turned around to face the two gentlemen. It was only when I had to crane my neck as far as it would go that I realised-

"-bloody hell, you two got tall."

Rather than bore you with the awkward eye contact and the shifty eyes between all three of us, I'll just say that basically I smiled and ran. Smiled meaning I coughed awkwardly and ran meaning I sprinted like an Olympian.

Upon returning to the drawing room, there were still only the occupants I had left behind just minutes prior. Lydia, Mary and Kitty were still hovering around the entrance way like damn fruit flies and to tell you the truth, they were getting on my nerves.

No one should be allowed to hover. Hovering is creepy. Stop hovering!

"Miranda," Amanda rushed from Collins side and latched onto my own arm. "I-"

"_Ew_," I whined pathetically, "you touched _him_ with that hand."

I tried to shake her off but she just gripped tighter with a mischievous smile. This was not going to work. Why bother arguing?

_Cause its ball squeezing Collins! I think you know as well as I do where his hands have been._

"Let go, let go, let go, let go," I chanted, almost bouncing up and down as I tried to jiggle my arm out of her grip.

"Nope! If I'm stuck with him, you get to share in the benefits," she finished with a sarcastic wink. I think I gurgled. "Quit your whining. I just wanted to warn you off Wickham. He is coming today, should be here any moment, and I don't want you going near him. As your unofficial older sister, I forbid his slimy money grabbing pinchers from going anywhere near you."

She finished with a firm nod and hesitantly shuffled her way back to Collins. Yeah, I was cackling like a crazy lady the whole time.

Finally, everyone who was someone or just wanted to feel a part of the happenings, were gathered at the opposite end of the room to poor Amanda and not so poor Mr Collins. I chose to stand sort of in the middle but off to the side closest to the door. There was never any harm in having an escape plan, now was there?

As I scanned the room my eyes fell on Jane and I think a part of my heart actually died. I could feel the tissues shrivel up on themselves and turn black. As much as I knew that this was all for a good cause and left Jane open to Bingers (even though he was making a right royal mess of things) I knew she was still devastated.

Not only could she no longer have the man of her dreams, but she couldn't even save her family.

I felt a hot stab of guilt, regret and oddly enough anger at Amanda for standing there beside Collins. I knew that she wouldn't end up marrying him; I knew that Jane would end up marrying him instead, and I also knew that eventually she would get with Bingley.

That didn't change the fact that I was looking at possibly the only truly good person I knew, tear themselves apart with disappointment and grief that they did not deserve.

I, for one, know that I am not a good person. I am not a bad person; I'm just not all that good either. But every now and then, I developed a conscience. I developed a damn conscience at the most inappropriate of times but eh, at least I had one and wasn't a raging sociopath, right?

_Always looking on the bright side._ Sure am, Maggie May.

I could hear Amanda mumbling about Bingley, proposing, Jane, mains electricity and suicide. I think the time difference was starting to get to her. Mr Bennet looked at me. I widened my eyes and subtly nodded my head towards the group. He took this as his cue to direct attention away from the seemingly insane bride-to-be.

"Well, isn't this nice?" Really? You could have done _so_ much better. Mrs Bennet's sudden chilling wails were enough to contradict that simple statement. I mentally thanked her, if she hadn't been the one to do it, I would have been wailing helplessly. That would only lead to _bad things. Bad. _Things. "So, who here-"deep breath "-lacks acquaintance?"

No one said anything. Guess everyone was feeling a bit nervous?

"Mr Bingley. Let me present Mr Collins. And you, sir, are?" he trailed off as he caught sight of the newest guest.

"Papa, that is our saviour, Captain Wickham!" she sure was an enthusiastic little thing. Maybe this story would end up leaning more towards the original novel than I previously thought. Oh, yep, look at those eyelashes! I didn't realise it was possible to move them that fast! "Must try that," I mumbled to myself.

"Must try what, exactly?"

I looked up and I am ashamed to say I was gaping. Mercilessly ogling. Yeah, I'm not too proud of it.

God, I hadn't even realised that the announcements and introductions were over. Everyone was now milling about the room, in light conversation or otherwise engaged, and wishing the _happy_ couple luck.

Mr Darcy stood before me, well more like beside me, looking down with a stoic expression although I could see a smile in his eyes.

I looked away as if I had been physically backhanded. Not good, not good, not good! So this theatre phase was really not helping anymore. That and everything seems to _go out the bloody window_ when one starts to _panic!_

"Urgh," it's so nice to see that I had become more intelligible over the last few days. Mary's tinkling on the piano caught my attention. Saved! "The piano, Mr Darcy. I play very little, and wish to approach Miss Mary about instruction."

Boo yah! Win for Miranda!

"Indeed, I find it refreshing that you are willing to openly discuss your faults and failures."

Failures? Are you calling me a failure? You're a failure!

I just smiled and laughed politely. Suddenly he stood completely erect (I just couldn't help myself and even laughed out loud much to his chagrin) and with that perfectly practiced blank look of boredom, turned and marched away.

Luckily enough, it was time for Amanda to approach him around about now. Any day now Amanda.

"You must forgive me, madam, for I seem to have frightened your companion to flight," a new smooth voice interrupted my musings.

"It was getting uncomfortable anyway," I still hadn't turned towards him. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Sure I knew that he actually wasn't a money whoring, little sister eloping, gambling and debt riddled chauvinist but _Captain_ Wickham was still arrogant to boot, and I felt like taking him down a peg or two.

I think he had started talking to me again but my attention was on the scene across from me. Poor Jane was storming away from Amanda. I watched as Amanda spun on her heel and rushed outside, only for Collins to follow her with the most lecherous look on his face. I had no doubt that he had nothing but bad intentions in mind and I wasn't about to let that happen.

"Forgive me," I interrupted him but disregarded the shocked look on his face, "but I must be excused. Urgent matters."

That's a good enough excuse right?

I just caught a glimpse of Collins leaning in to kiss Amanda but she walked off, leaving him to almost face plant. There must have been a hell of a lot of force behind that intended lip lock.

"Mr Collins," I called as I walked from out of the shadows, "may we have a moment?"

He stood to his full height and looked down his nose at me, no doubt attempting adopt the 'air of condescension that Lady Catherine exults'. "If you must, but it shall be kept _brief_, I have a _fiancé_ I must attend to."

Oh, I am just so _heartbroken_.

"Mr Collins, when I speak to you, it shall not be to your chest, chin nor nose. I would appreciate it greatly if you looked at my face properly." He sniffed but lowered his chin slightly. I glared. It dropped another few inches.

"Better?" I smiled in satisfaction and nodded.

"I have a matter of great import I feel I must share with you." His eyes lit up with false understanding.

"I see, this is a matter you wish to seek me out as a servant of the Lord-"

"No. I wish to speak to you about your engagement to Miss Price. You see, I believe that you are marrying for money, are you not? Miss Price presents a very valued income, one that puts her almost in league with your most _valued Patroness_, no?"

"I, well I- no!"

"Yes, Mr Collins, I am neither fool nor so obtuse as to not see your scheming ways. Or the fact that you're an asshole." I frowned to myself, that wasn't meant to come out. Oh well, too late now. "Do not mistake me, though, I am only speaking in your best interests. I believe Miss Price also tried to inform you during your disastrous attempt for Miss Bennet's hand."

"And she did. She informed me of her feelings for me and all but dismissed Miss Bennet as a suitable candidate for my future life and felicity. I am very aware of her standing on this matter."

"Ah, but you are still mistaken. Miss Price was not referring to herself when she spoke of a woman who could love you like no other. She was not referring to herself, but to dear Miss Charlotte Lucas. You may perceive her as plain. You may even go so far as to say she is too old, or not accomplished enough to fulfil the standing of your wife. But hear me this, she is warm, and distinguishable as a person amongst a crowd. She is docile, yet witty enough to humour and humble you when necessary. She may be older than a standard bride but that only lends itself to her experience in observing and assisting in the running of an efficient household. I believe, in the interest of your future life and felicity, there is no other choice but Miss Lucas."

I think I scared him. He _is_ looking awfully white. More so than usual.

"And did I mention her father has been Knighted? Yes, Sir William Lucas, an upstanding gentlemen of our community. So you would be obtaining some connections, not all is lost."

"I must," he swallowed deeply, "honour my decisions. It would be most unbecoming to break an engagement purely on a whim. Lady Catherine, would, not oblige."

"Well, if for some reason or other this engagement is broken, please heed my advice and look to Miss Lucas."

With that I spun on my heel and stepped off the porch to find Amanda.

**And ta-da! I hope you liked it :) I am not 100% happy with this one, don't get me wrong, there are bits I like but little bits I am not too fond of. Unfortunately they are necessary for dreaded development. WARNING: from here on, the dialogue will be less from the series and more from me as the plot line begins to err from the original series and even the novel.**

**There have been a surprising number of hits for this story and only two reviewers, come on people! I absolutely love getting suggestions, ideas and constructive criticism, helps me grow as a writer and gives me the warm fuzzies. I like warm fuzzies. Toodaloo!**


	4. Flying Flubbernuggets, I found a Giraffe

**Hola! Here is Chapter Four! Once again, small grammatical errors or spelling errors are ignorable, complete butchering of grammar or spelling then just let me know and I shall do some remodelling and editing :) Do enjoy:**

Chapter Four: Flying Flubbernuggets, I found a Giraffe.

I was just stepping off the porch to find Amanda when the voices started increasing in volume. Rest assured, it wasn't Maggie May and I was not going insane. At least, I don't think I was going insane.

It seemed the party had moved from the parlour to the porch and before I could escape without their notice-

"Miss Miranda!"

"Shit!" I whispered. I spun around to once again find Mr Darcy standing behind me, looming over and definitely trying to use his intimidation skills on me. Well it won't work! "Can I help you, sir?"

"Mr Bingley!" and here she is! I grabbed her wrist as she ran up to the congregation.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" I whispered desperately in her ear. We were angled away from the group slightly; I didn't exactly want to expose myself as being the crass woman from the future. Amanda had already set sail that ship.

She just winked back.

No! No, no, winking is not an acceptable answer! It doesn't fix anything!

"Mr Bingley, will you take a turn with me around the garden? I find myself fantastically interested to see a vole."

"A vole." He looked sufficiently bemused. Eh, so did the rest of us.

"Miss Bennet," she turned to a demurely blushing Jane, "Mr Bingley and I are going to search for voles. Join us! Who knows what we might discover."

"Do say you will, Miss Bennet," Bingley pleaded. Way to be subtle. "I, myself, cannot navigate. Without guidance, I might easily find myself in the duck pond."

Way to save face. I politely laughed with everyone else but attention drifted away. As I was looking around, I spotted Wickham, still in the same position he had been while talking to Amanda. The rest of the party had now moved out to the gardens on their vole hunt. I managed to hang back and slip away unnoticed, still keeping an eye over my shoulder at the group.

"If you could be so kind, you share very similar knowledge of things unusual as Miss Price, do inform me of what this _neon_ is?"

I spun around to face him but jumped back with a hand against my heart.

"Bloody hell, Wickham! Do you need to sneak up on people like that? Jesus!"

I took a deep breath and eyed him warily as he slowly moved forward again. I know I was no expert on regency customs but he definitely seemed to be standing in the circle of closeness that was generally reserved for intimately acquainted folks.

"Just step back a little," I mumbled as I pushed against his chest with one hand. He took a deliberate step closer.

I glared.

He smirked.

This sounded way too familiar.

I sighed. "Look-"

"Miss Miranda!" is spun so fast I can safely say that yes, it is possible to get whiplash without the aid of a seatbelt or car accident.

Mr Bennet stopped in front of me and sent a warning look to Wickham. "Captain Wickham, I did not know you were so intimately acquainted with our guest as to spend time alone with her."

I laughed and turned to Mr Bennet again who, unsurprisingly was smiling smugly at the floundering Wickham. Serves him right.

"My dear, a package was just received and is addressed to you. It is in my library for when you wish to retrieve it. This letter was attached and looks most important," he finished with a wink as he handed me the expensive looking parchment and walked back into the house, most likely towards his library for the solace he so desired in his household.

My name was inscribed in impressive calligraphy on the front and as I turned it over to open it, I couldn't help but observe the crown in the wax seal. I was suddenly nervous. Sure, I was almost positive that the King and Queen Mr Bennet had spoken of were my parents (they had the same name, heritage and social standing as my world) but I couldn't help but feel nervous. What if it was coincidence? What if even by accidently claiming relation to these people, I had signed my own demise? All by forging an association with people I didn't actually know?

My mind was running a hundred miles per hour and by the time I had started hyperventilating, George had snapped out of his own flustered state and was now attending to mine.

"Whoa, just breathe. Who could have possibly sent you a letter that terrifies you to a point that you don't even need to open it to instil fear in you?"

By now he was attempting to pick me up. Even in the state I was in I was able to swipe and hit him until he backed off. "Piss-" gasp "-off," choke, "George!" swipe.

Things were slowly starting to become blurry. There was nowhere near enough oxygen reaching my lungs or my brain and I could feel it trying to shut down in defence. A dark shadow was closing in around my eyesight from the edges, making it unbelievably harder to make it to the wall.

By the time I did I was on my hands and knees. I pushed my back against the wall and tried to ignore Wickham's shouting for help and the cries of shock and terror from Amanda and Jane.

Before I could protest, strong arms had picked me up from the ground and were now carrying me in the direction of the house. I was mumbling weak defences, trying to be put down but it seems that men with superiority and chivalry complexes do not listen to women they perceive to be in distress.

Yeah, I wasn't too happy about that.

_Oh well, they will certainly hear about this when I wake up_, was the last thing through my mind as the black won over.

All I could see was a soft yellow. All I could hear were birds in the tree just outside my window. All I could smell was gunpowder and chalk.

I sat up straight with a gasp and instantly regretted it as I smacked my forehead against… well, I can't be sure what I hit. I squeezed my eyes closed as soon as it happened, you see.

"God dammit!"

"My sentiments exactly."

"George! This is all your fault!" I whined as I rolled onto my side, still clutching my head in both hands.

"Most people who appear to sleep like the dead, do not usually awaken so abruptly," he defended. I squinted up at him through my hands to see him rubbing his tender forehead and pouting like a toddler.

I burst out laughing. Slowly he removed his hands and started chuckling too.

"Just because I find this hilarious," I warned him, still giggling, "does not mean I am blaming you any less. It's still your fault."

"If it makes you feel better then of course. Though I do believe that after this little episode, you will need to _speak_ to and properly _thank_ the honourable Mr Darcy."

Good god, I don't sleep walk do I? What could I have possibly done other than tell him where to stick it? Oh Jesus, I'm screwed aren't I?

"Whoa, slow down, I can see the gears turning a mile a minute in that pretty little head of yours," flattery will not get you anywhere, "it was he who gallantly carried you up the stairs to your room after your _episode_."

With that he looked at me with unbidden concern in his eyes. No! You're not allowed to act like a good guy! I can't like you now! You're still arrogant! Urgh!

"_Great_," I mumbled back. Just what I needed, to be in debt to the prick who is not only meant to originally fall in love with Elizabeth, but who I need to ensure falls in love with Amanda but is being super difficult and trying to _flirt_ with _me_.

Fan-_fucking_-tastic.

"You never opened your letter," Wickham's voice broke through my reverie. I looked at him blankly until the reason behind yesterday's _episode_, as he called it, came back to mind. He silently picked it up and handed it to me, but not before he glimpsed the crest on the wax seal. "From the King?" his eyebrows were happily meeting and greeting his hairline and I don't think his eyes could have opened any wider.

I took the letter and took another look at the seal. It was the Italian Royal Family Crest.

"Get out," I pointed to the door but didn't look up from the letter. Had I of seen his face I would of noticed the hurt in his eyes and the arrogance that quickly hid it. Of course I didn't look up and didn't see anything but the letter in my palm.

I also missed the sly mischievous look he shot back at me as he closed the door.

I slipped my thumb under the seal and ripped it open in one tug. As I unfolded it I noticed barely one page was filled.

_My dearest Miranda,_

_I know you must be confused but rest assured you are not losing your mind. I understand that I have much to explain, both your father and I are as excited as we are terrified of the prospect of you learning about the secrets that we have kept from you seemingly all your life. I promise you though, we only meant to do what we thought was the right thing by you. We did it in order to give you the power of choice when the time came._

_Even though you might not have thought it in reverse, it is much easier for one to assimilate into this culture than it is for __someone here to assimilate into the twenty first century._

_We would like you to come stay with us at __Reggia di Caserta in Italy. It would be beneficial to all if we could discuss this in person. As people have probably informed you, and I know that you are intelligent enough to put the pieces together, that in Modern Day England we are our equivalent of our status here._

_You see, my dear, your father is the King of Italy and in turn I am Queen. We will further discuss your lineage when you arrive. You might be surprised to learn that your maternal Grandfather is the King of France and your cousins make up the English Monarchy._

_Your father sends his best wishes but he is currently taking care of the business in MDE and will not be returning for yet a month._

_Make haste, safe travel and all my love,_

_Your Mother,_

_Queen Emmanuelle Lloyd de le Gallo of France_

Good God.

I want my damn package!

I was sandwiched between Mr Collins and the carriage wall. Why? Especially when only Lydia occupied the other bench seat, why was I trapped here? Because Mr Collins insisted.

He bloody well insisted.

I have no explanation.

I can only assume that given the fancy dress (mother clearly was not one for subtlety and was a clear demonstration of wealth), he decided to stay true to his social ladder climbing schemes and stick close to those who appeared to hold power.

I had managed to block out all the meaningless chatter which once again consisted of Mr Collins singing his praises for Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lydia babbling about the wonders of Amanda's lip gloss. Neither of them were aware that we were now pulling onto the laneway that lead to Netherfield.

"You could park a bloody jumbo!" Amanda whispered in awe. I couldn't have put it any better myself.

It was pretty impressive. The drive was lined with torches and the house itself seemed to emanate a glow that attracted all the guests like moths to a flame. A very impressive, expensive, luxurious flame.

"My dear, wait until you behold the clasping buttresses of Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

"I bet her buttresses are…" I had to make some attempt at conversation, "pretty hard core."

I couldn't help but smirk at Amanda who looked to be trying so hard not to laugh. I just laughed openly. I wasn't engaged to the trouser groper so why not?

I stepped out of the carriage, ignoring the most likely unwashed hand of Collins, and smoothed my hands over my dress. The package my mother had sent me consisted of four gowns and two pairs of shoes. Two of the gowns were designed for night time occasions (awfully handy, no?) and two for daytime while one pair of shoes were very clearly from this period and seeming as they were essentially combat boots, I could only guess they were the day time pair. The other pair was from my own wardrobe back home: a pair of platform heals that were black material and covered in flowers with a buckle that wrapped around the ankle.

Not only was it the second pair of 13 cm heeled shoes I now possessed in Georgian England, but the only pair I could find. Trust, the night of the ball I can't find one of my tan shoes.

For tonight I had chosen the black and white dress, after all, all the other women of the household had chosen white and I could remember in the series that all the women wore various shades from white, to cream, to light peach.

The neck line was demure and extended out into short, excessively ruffled sleeves that if unwound could probably clothe a small continent for a year. It was surprisingly risqué for the time period with its tight, silhouetted design that had no cinching and dropped to the floor in one long flow of material.

It was beautifully hand crafted lace over the top of black velvet with strips of satin that trailed from hemline to hemline in vertical spaced stripes.

It was long and flowed freely enough from my hips downwards that I could wear my newly acquired heels and not have to spend the night explaining them. I would have enough to do after my introduction.

"Miss Amanda Dawn Price. Mr William Zeal of the Lord Collins."

Lord of the Zeal? That explained so much…

As I stepped up next to the announcer, slipping on a pair of elbow length black silk gloves, his countenance changed immediately and his eyes widened as he looked at me. He stumbled through a bow and cleared his throat. "Crown Princess Miranda Gilbert Otes Lloyd de le Gallo of Italy."

I just heard a glass smash.

"God, I need a stiff drink," I found the table of refreshments but all they were serving was non-alcoholic punch and some type of flavourless carbonated crap. This was going to be a_ long_ night.

People had been giving me a wide berth all night and I was starting to feel almost out casted by what the general mass must have assumed to be respect. Not even any of the Bennet's had stumbled out of their Bingley shadowed corner and I was even more surprised that Mrs Bennet had been glaring when unnoticed by other people.

Her look of displeasure only served to contest Amanda's in relation to Collins. I could see her throughout the night, trying to escape the clutches of her most attentive fiancé, but was unable as he always caught her arm and scalded her lack of propriety. Cause he was just _rolling_ in it.

I rolled my eyes before hunting down the nearest server. He was a young-ish man, probably around ate twenties to early thirties with dark hair, light skin and kind brown eyes. "If you could oblige me, I would be most grateful for a scotch on the rocks," I watched him from the corner of my eye as he gaped a little, bowed stoically and promised to return immediately.

Awesome, just get me a drink.

As he walked away, I spotted Mr Bingley chatting with his sister and Mr Darcy. Well, now was the chance to _thank_ him.

Mr Bingley was the first to see me approach and promptly bowed almost to a right angle. This of course triggered the balefully low curtsy from Miss Bingley and Mr Darcy to simply turn around and look down at me with his trademark stoic expression.

"Miss Lloyd, it is such a pleasure to see you again. Are you enjoying yourself?" I couldn't help but smile that despite his new knowledge of my heritage and status, he still treated me as a friend. It was definitely a nice change of pace for the night.

"Of course, your home is absolutely splendid," I waved off his still partially bent stature as the server returned with my drink. "Grazie."

"Thank you, though I am sure it is nothing in comparison to yours."

"Miss Miranda," Darcy interrupted, "may I request a private audience with you? It is a matter of great import and must be remedied immediately."

I downed my drink, handed it to the nearest server and requested another one. "Oh, it's you again! What's your name?"

"Anderson, miss."

"Very well, Anderson, don't be surprised if I come to you specifically for a refill." With one last smile, which he surprisingly returned, I was off towards an empty porch. It turned out to be not as empty as I had originally thought and the two couples that had been mulling around quickly bowed deeply and retreated back into the ball room.

I sighed as I stood straight from my reciprocated curtsy and ventured further out until I was leaning against the concrete bannister. After waiting at least five minutes I turned around to see Mr Darcy hanging back, standing much more closely to the door way and heavy drapes than the balcony I was standing on.

With a quick apology and repetitious bow, Anderson handed me my drink before retreating inside, not before nodding respectfully to Darcy on his way back in.

"Miss Miranda, I believe the majority of the people in attendance tonight are under a heinous misconception. One which you, yourself, have failed to remedy. It is an appalling grievance and disservice to the Royal family for such, _imposters_, to traipse around claiming connections they clearly are _not_ in possession of."

"Please, do reveal the imposter, I shall deal with it directly." I deadpanned.

"I did not believe you to be born of this cunning. Using such allusive arts to gain the favour of the good people here, the favour of myself! I put my trust in you and you wilfully misguided me. My good opinion-"

"-once lost is lost forever. Get a new catchphrase," I hissed back at him. "I came out here to offer my thanks for helping me in my time of need just the other day. I did not expect you to throw that in my face, soil my semi-good opinion of you and attempt to destroy my reputation all in one go!"

"I am not the wolf in sheep's clothing."

For the second time that night I found myself downing my drinking. I tossed the ice over the balcony and slammed the glass down so hard on the railing I was surprised it didn't shatter.

"Look here, Darcy," I walked forward, still retaining the respectable distance that propriety dictated, "If anyone is playing in the arts of disguise it is you. Before you get all high and mighty on me again, I understand that there are things in your past which have dictated your current disposition but don't worry, I will not force you into revealing such private circumstances. But just because you are a paranoid yuppie and not many things surprise you, does not mean that every time something _does _manage to surprise you that it must be fake!"

This time he took a step forward and got in my face.

"End this madness or I will."

With that he bowed curtly and walked back into the ballroom.

**Opinion? Constructive criticism always welcome. Abuse? Not so much… I shall post a link to the website with the dress on my profile and please, any ideas or anything, just review! Until next time :)**


	5. Bat cave, Man cave, Bear cave and Fish

_Chapter Five: Bat caves, Man caves, Bear caves and a Fishmonger._

Darcy is a bastard.

A pompous, judgemental bastard.

And Wickham, _oh_, I will be more than happy to gift him with a new pair of concrete shoes right before I introduce him to my good friend Lake Super Deep.

And where the _bloody hell_ is my _god damn shoe_!

I need a cup of tea. Or another scotch.

I watched as Darcy stalked over to a small dark corner to sulk. I caught his gaze and his stoic expression smoothly melted into a pretty impressive frown. I quickly looked away from that bundle of fun and scanned the room.

Oh no.

Wickham was leaning in towards the three youngest Bennet's in way too close proximity and from the way his eyes flickered between the girls and Amanda, I could only guess he had begun to weave his fishy tales.

His eyes flickered up and he came to an abrupt holt. I quickly checked over my shoulder and lo and behold I was still alone, the crowd still working to avoid me like the bloody plague. With barely a bow he was suddenly en route to my coordinates.

Why yes, I do think scotch is the answer. And no, I do not know the question.

_Tits._

_I'm hungover._

The previous night was blotchy. Memories and details had fallen through the alcoholic sieve and only a feeling of regret and apprehension clouded my mind. A feeling I was only too familiar with in Modern Day England.

I hadn't even opened my eyes but if the pounding in my head and the abnormally loud screech of the curtains bursting open as Hill aired the house was anything to go by, well.

I rolled over in my warm and toasty bed only to feel the stomach wrenching clench of free fall and solidly face plant into the hardwood floors. Definitely not the best progress in relieving a hangover.

I groaned as I slowly pushed myself on to my knees but froze as a sudden blinding flash burned my light sensitive eyes.

There is an above average chance that the house actually _shook_ as I screamed.

Amanda was the first person to come in and the look of urgent concern was quickly replaced with delighted cackles. That was not what I was expecting.

"Amanda," my voice quivered anxiously, "why am I wearing an obscene looking monstrosity and is its position significant?"

Apparently the alcohol hadn't completely worn off.

"Yeah, you're engaged."

My cries and sobs were drowned out once again by Amanda's joyful chuckling. My fiancé must have been just as bad or worse than hers for her to be so damn delighted. I couldn't help but gag at the thought of my very own Collins to have to manoeuvre around.

I righted myself and waited until the spinning in my head eased up before crawling back into bed and moaning miserably as Amanda came and got in with me.

"I can't remember a good half of last night," I whispered childishly. "At least." I couldn't help but laugh with her this time. I was plenty aware of how typical me it was and what a contradiction of the image I had tried so hard to present here.

Amanda began from when I stormed back in after my little chat with Darcy. Not only had I hit the alcohol hard but I became essentially a recluse for the night, hanging out in the corner of the room until it was time to leave. Yeah, I fell asleep in the carriage.

The general run down was:

Wickham had spread a tale – via the youngest Bennet sisters, of course – that Amanda's money was made via her successful fishmonger father but unfortunately had drank it all away. Upon hearing _this_, Collins decided he no longer needed to maintain his union with Amanda which was chiefly reinforced when her fathers '_apprentice_' showed up and claimed an attachment to _me_.

Then Amanda kicked him in the balls, got escorted out and caused the entire Bennet clan – plus me and my _fiancé_ – to leave the function early.

No Mrs Bennet was not a ray of sunshine, why yes Mr Bennet was awfully cheerful, Jane was a teary mess and I was passed out and drooling on Domino's shoulder.

"Who the hell is Domino?"

"Your fiancé."

The wedding bells were chiming and the small crowd out the front of the church were throwing rice grains and flowers at the _happy_ couple as they neared the carriage that would take them to Kent. Domino tucked my arm tighter into his as we headed forwards with the crowd. I had no doubt that Mr Darcy got a kick out of that one. After all, despite the truth in my name, the fact that I was engaged to a fishmonger did little to back up my claims and in turn made me look the fool Mr Darcy had thought I took him for.

I smacked Domino's hand away and continued on my own. As much as this was meant to be a happy day of joy and congratulations, it felt like a bad omen. Sure, things had turned out well for _Amanda_ but for the Bennet's? Not so much.

Mrs Bennet was lamenting the future loss of Longbourne to Mr and Mrs Collins while the Lucas's celebrated the final goodbye to their single daughter – to life as a married woman as opposed to a missionary in Africa as she had originally planned.

I had to admit, I was revelling in my own victory. No doubt Collins had heeded my advice and offered for Charlotte despite her lack of a large dowry. I watched as they settled in the open top carriage and shared an awkward peck under the grey clouded sky before heading off, still showered in pink petals and rice.

Jane was clapping politely with the rest of the crowd and blushing demurely every time Bingley smiled at her but despite this, she still watched the carriage fade into the distance with palpable regret. She still felt as if she had let her family down and failed in her duty as the eldest to secure the family home for her mother and sisters.

From the corner of my eye I could see Domino approaching and quickly padded my way over to Jane as to escape his advances.

The guy couldn't take a hint.

Or a hit. Pussy.

I wrapped both my arms around Jane as the congregation thinned. She sighed heavily and I knew she was moments from tears.

"Sweetheart, you know this is for the best," I told her as I wiped a tear from her eye. "Amanda didn't get engaged to him to save you from nothing."

"Yes but-" she choked on a sob.

Before I could offer her further comfort I was tapped on the shoulder by Mr Bingley. I silently gave her a kiss on the forehead before leaving to find Amanda. I was more than surprised to see her talking almost calmly with Wickham. As far as I knew, she still saw him as a squandering salamander so I couldn't help but try and eaves drop.

Before I could get close enough-

_I have to say I'm kind of proud of you._ Here we go.

Well, Mags, what can I say? Certified genius, I am.

_Certified, definitely, genius, bullshit._

Hey now!

Before I could get in a proper retort I was once again man handled by the Great Moron of the Deep.

"Domino! Will you stop?"

"Indeed, you have gone above and beyond your initial purpose. Trying to coerce royalty is low, even for someone who would accept money for such fishy schemes."

Wickham. If I had a shovel.

"Sure," Domino relented all too easily, "for another ten pounds."

"You slimy-"

"It only took two for you to play your role. You've gone above and beyond. That was your choice," Wickham didn't look happy at all. In fact, for once, I could see a small glimpse of he-minus-the-arrogance. Even though the situation was volatile for 19th century standards it was still nice to see.

"Yeah, and I landed myself a princess. You think I'm going to give that up that easy?"

Well, yeah?

I quickly took the audacious ring – that had to of been stolen – from the small pocket insert in the hem at the waist of my deep blue gown and held it out to Domino.

"I know you could never afford this. So in breaking this arrangement – which you clearly took advantage of seeing as I was _sloshed_ – I will give this back, it is more than enough compensation. In return, I expect to never see you ever again nor hear your name or that you had anything to do with anyone I know." Deep breath. "Now scram!"

I turned around and tossed the ring down the road the carriage had just travelled and watched as he scampered after it, yelling obscenities as he went. I laughed loudly and started heading back towards Longbourne. The house was in convenient walking distance to nearly everything, I swear.

"Did you find my gift?"

And the rage returned.

"You mean to say," I looked at the ground and chuckled lightly, "that _you_ stole my shoe?"

Yeah, I had found my tan shoe on the trunk at the foot of my bed after his last visit two days earlier. I hadn't even thought to make the connection between when it turned up and who had visited. I was losing my touch.

"Well, after so harsh a dismissal all those weeks ago, my ego was bruised."

Men and their egos, I swear.

I flipped him off and hurried down the road once again.

This is like Ground Hog day.

Jane was wrapped in my arms as we sat on her bed. There were probably thirteen handkerchiefs on the bed next to me, all soaked with Janes tears.

_You should bottle it and sell it as Angel Tears. You'd make a killing._

Not now Maggie May.

Amanda had already briefed me on her visit with Darcy and it seemed that despite Jane's still single and free to become engaged status, Darcy had still warned Bingley off her. You can see that the conversation was bound to go downhill from there. Which it did.

Not only then did I have a tearful Jane to comfort but a pissed off Amanda ranting about what a huge disappointment Darcy was. As if I didn't see that for myself. Apparently he called her an abomination.

That had me going for a good hour or so but the look on Amanda's face kept me quiet.

Jane finally fell asleep again despite the fact it was only ten in the morning so I made my way downstairs to the breakfast parlour to grab some grub. Amanda came in from the garden at the same time and decided to join me for a meagre serving of tea and toast.

"Where the _bloody_ hell did you find an _axe_?"

"You don't want to know," she brushed me off.

Ha ha, not gonna happen.

"No really, I do."

"I _promise_ you, you don't."

"That's funny cause I really do."

"_Miranda_," she growled.

"Amanda."

…

"Sexual favours?"

"_Oh would you_-"

"Miss Price, Miss Miranda," the curt voice of Mrs Bennet was not exactly the way I had wanted our conversation to end. Some things you just can't help.

"Yes, Mrs Bennet," Amanda began, "I was just breaking my fast." Way to be fancy. "We will be gone as soon as we gather our belongings."

"Upon request of Mr Bennet, Miss Miranda is to remain another three days. You, on the other hand, may leave." With that she spun on her heel and left to go harass her four single daughters.

"Crazy old bat."

"Yep."

"Forgot to mention your eviction?"

"Yep."

"How lovely."

"Yep."

And I have to stay a whole three extra days.

"To the bat cave!"

I arrived at Mr Bennet's library within a minute and lightly tapped on the closed door. The lack of noise had me mildly concerned but it was the slight swinging of the partially open door which displayed the empty room that had me in almost fully fledged panic.

_You can't have lost him. He's a whole person! Who loses a whole person?_

Apparently I do.

I quickly made my way back down the stairs and out into the garden. Imagine my surprise when I ran into him just outside the doorway. Literally ran into him.

"My dear, are you quite alright?"

I looked up at him from the floor and the hand he was extending towards me. I gratefully took it and smiled ruefully.

"Sorry, I thought I had lost you." Probably not something I should admit. Don't want people thinking your irresponsible now.

"Indeed. Though I believe it would be truly difficult to misplace a human being, even one as reclusive as I."

"You'd be surprised," I mumbled.

"You needed something?"

"Oh, quite right. Mrs Bennet informed me that although Amanda is leaving today, I must wait three more days?"

"Ah yes, you see, we are expecting _more_" – he lightly shuddered, I smiled – "visitors today at noon and I have been instructed to detain you until their arrival." He finished with a wink and walked back towards his man cave despite my protests and questions.

"Well that was astoundingly vague."

Amanda and Mrs Bennet chose that moment to reappear; only Amanda was dressed in her modern clothes which looked wrinkled and musty. Spose she forgot to wash them.

Ignoring the Bennet matriarch – witch – she stopped to give me a hug.

"Keep in touch okay? I don't know how we will do it but just promise to keep in contact," she pleaded.

I slowly nodded my head.

"When you need me," I began hesitantly, "send a letter to Mr Bennet. I have a feeling he knows more than he is letting on and will be able to forward any letters to me or even give you my contact address before even I know it."

We both laughed though it was slightly awkward and bordered on tearful but our stubborn natures prevented any rogue salt water from appearing.

"Miss Price."

Enough said. Amanda hurried out the door with only a backward glance at me before heading down the drive to where? I couldn't tell you.

**A/n: Hola readers :) First let me apologise for a few things:**

**How long it has taken to update. I'm in the middle of my final exams and the last few months have been mildly hectic.**

**How short this chapter is. I have a strict 3000 word minimum per chapter policy but given the events of the episode and the story and the direction, I just have to end it here which upsets me because it is basically 1000 words shorted than all the others.**

**If you like this story because it sticks to the television show, then I must apologise because from here it becomes very AU, it will join in with the events of the show but here is where Miranda will learn more about why she is where she is, how Mr Bennet seems to know so much and her family.**

**It will become a little more serious. Maggie May serves her purpose as Miranda's pesky yet logical conscience but she will become more of a guest star than a constant. Miranda's sassy nature will always be integral to her character but her light hearted, almost air headed insults may come off as bitchy, whinging and bitter in coming events. I'm sorry but it has to happen!**

**Well, exams finish in three weeks and I have a two week break but I'm also working on a couple of other things so we shall see how this goes. Reviews please :)**


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